


Lie on Your Back and Take it Like a Man (The Master of Pricks Reloaded)

by theonsfavouritetoy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: First Time Bottoming, Jon is jealous, M/M, No Plot, POV Theon Greyjoy, PWP, Robb Stark is a Gift, Theon Greyjoy-centric, Theon isn't scared, established relationships - Freeform, except the Robb/Theon one that's new, mini sequel to existing story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonsfavouritetoy/pseuds/theonsfavouritetoy
Summary: It's been some time now that Theon agreed to teach Jon Snow the ways of the flesh (recklessly falling for him along the way). Now it's time that the Master of Pricks truly earns his title. Or, that time when Theon Greyjoy inevitably gets his arse introduced to Robb Stark's cock.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 101





	Lie on Your Back and Take it Like a Man (The Master of Pricks Reloaded)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody ^^
> 
> So, it does happen seldomly, but sometimes I just want Robb to fuck Theon until he doesn't know what's up and what's down anymore. 
> 
> This is a sort of mini sequel to The Master of Pricks. For those who haven't read it, the summary basically says it all. 
> 
> A comment on the last chapter of Master of Pricks by @darkandstormyslash hasn't left me quite alone over time about Theon getting his arse introduced to Robb's cock and now the time has come! 
> 
> The romantic relationships are Theon/Jon and Jon/Robb but I do fear Theon and Robb have certain feelings for each other as well. What can you do... :)

“You look scared.” 

Theon snorts into his tankard at Snow’s comment before taking a huge gulp of wine. He’s definitely _not_ scared, thank you very much. He’s just… well, maybe a little nervous. It’s not an everyday occurrence after all, waiting for Robb to be done with whatever lordling things he’s doing before – Theon swallows dryly, taking another sip. 

“If you hadn’t been such a stubborn prick about it, you’d be used to it by now and it wouldn’t be such a big deal.” 

“Fuck off,” Theon mutters, eyeing Snow as he starts to take off his clothes. He always loves that moment, all that milk white skin emerging only to be littered with bruises and love bites – but right now, with his stomach in a tight knot, Theon finds it hard to appreciate the sight. 

How in every hell could it have come to this? Theon wishes he could say he’d been drunk when agreeing, to have an excuse, not in his right mind, blablabla… Unfortunately he’d been stone cold sober, maybe a little distracted, seeing as he’d been balls deep inside Snow’s arse at the time. But Theon doubts Robb will count that as a valid excuse. 

“Actually, you _should_ be a little nervous.” Snow, naked and bold as brass, comes over to the table, taking the bottle and swallowing a mouthful of wine before he refills Theon’s tankard. “First time with him I thought I’d be split in two. Not that you weren’t making an impression too,” he adds when he notices Theon’s glare. “But you’ve seen him, aye?”

Aye, Theon has seen Robb’s cock on numerous occasions, mostly when vanishing in Snow’s mouth or Snow’s tight arse. But that _little_ (hah!) fact had totally slipped his mind when – Theon groans, trying to decide if he shouldn’t just fake a dreadful illness to get out of this. He drinks, gulping down as much wine as his stomach can hold in the hopes it may loosen his nerves and his – well, certain muscles. 

“Eh, you’ll be fine.” Snow reaches out to patronizingly pat Theon’s arm. “Who knows, maybe you’ll like it so much you’ll be begging for it all the time.” 

Bloody likely. Theon gives Snow a furious glare as he fills his tankard anew. All the bastard’s fault anyway. It had been _his_ stupid talking that had made Theon promise to do this. He closes his eyes, kneading the bridge of his nose as he tries to remember how _exactly_ it had come to this. He’d been fucking Snow, here in his chambers, had Snow’s legs slung over his shoulders and been going to town on his arse so hard that Snow had been hoarse from all the screaming – and Robb had been sitting in a chair next to the bed, gaping and working his (huge, drowned fuck!) cock. So far, so normal, nothing out of the ordinary. 

But _then_ , all of a sudden, Robb had sighed, and muttered something along the lines of, “want to do this to you too.” 

Theon had continued slamming into Snow, had given Robb an angry glare and told him to fucking wait for his turn, and it’s not as if he wasn’t the one fucking Snow most of the time anyway, greedy brat.

And Robb had sighed again, had shaken his head and said the impossible. “Not Jon. You.” 

And at that Theon’s hips had stopped moving, Snow had stopped wailing like the Others, both staring at Robb. Theon with his mouth hanging open, Snow with a jealous pout. 

“Why?” Snow had asked, slipping away from Theon and leaving his cock cold and aching, the mean bastard. “Am I not enough for you?” 

“More than enough.” Robb had given Snow one of those sappy, lovey-dovey looks that never fail to make Theon roll his eyes. “You know I love you, Jon. But Theon…” He’d grinned lewdly, and to Theon’s horror it had made his stomach tighten and his prick twitch. “He looks so good when he’s fucking you, I want to know how he looks when I take him apart.” 

“Hmp,” Snow had made, and then the sly thing had used Theon’s distraction to push him over onto his back and climb into his lap. “That’s never going to happen anyway.” He’d taken Theon’s prick, rocking down on it in a fluid motion that had Theon gasp. “He’s too much of a craven to ever let anything near his arse. Except my mouth.” He’d started to move, gliding up and down in a way that must’ve completely addled Theon’s brain. That, or what Snow had said next. “Not man enough to take it, are you?” 

Theon downs the last of the wine, flinching when there’s a noise somewhere outside. He’s not nearly drunk enough for this. _Nowhere_ near. And it doesn’t help that Snow is watching him with a weird mixture of mirthful smiles and threatening glares. Why in the fucking Drowned God’s name did he have to say… 

“Not _man_ enough?” he’d said, flipping them over and furiously pounding into Snow to the point his eyes had crossed. “I’ll show you what I’m _man_ enough to do! You think I’m scared? Tell you something, I can take everything!” He’d driven into Snow’s slick heat once more, his balls tightening. “I’m not afraid of your fucking cock, Stark,” he’d hissed to Robb. “Bring it on!” 

And then the waves had been crashing over Theon, had almost made him black out. And when he’d come to his senses again, Snow had been staring up at him, open-mouthed and his belly smeared with seed. And Robb… his face had been a picture of delight, his sticky hand still clutching at his softening dick. 

And here he is now, Theon thinks resignedly, waiting for Robb and his cock as if for an executioner with his sword. There’s no more wine, so Theon stiffly gets up for some water to wet his parched throat. Are those footsteps coming down the hallway? Hands trembling, Theon almost spills the water. He’s sweating, despite the cool air. The footsteps are coming closer, and suddenly Snow’s voice starts Theon out of his frozen state. 

“No kissing, you hear me? If you kiss him – or touch him too much – I’m going to break your nose.” Snow glowers pointedly as he goes to sit on his bed. “Robb is _mine,_ Greyjoy.” 

Theon doesn’t answer, gaze fixed on the door as the footsteps come to a halt, as it slowly swings opens and Robb comes in. Has he always been that tall? Theon straightens, chin high up. He’s behaving ridiculously, there’s nothing to this. A bit of fucking, so what? If Snow, the perfect little slut, can take it, Theon very much can as well! Determined, Theon shucks his clothes, stepping out of his breeches with his arms crossed before his chest. 

“I love your level of enthusiasm,” Robb says, one eyebrow cocked as he walks over to Snow to kiss him. “Sorry I made you wait, love,” he murmurs, looking like he wants to settle at Snow’s side for some more ghastly kissing and cooing. 

Theon can’t have that. He’s cold, he’s drunk, he’s desperate to get this over with and prove that he fears nothing, not even Robb Stark’s cock. He’s Ironborn, for fuck’s sake, there’s nothing he couldn’t take! 

“Stop it with the sweet nothings, Stark,” he says, “and drop your breeches. You’ve got some fucking to do.” And with that Theon marches to the bed, ignoring Snow’s huffing as he comes to stand in front of Robb. “How do you want me?” he asks haughtily. 

“You said you wanted to see Theon’s face,” Snow meddles helpfully. “But according to the Master of Pricks here the best position for a first time would be on all fours.” 

Aye, that’s what Theon told Snow when he had him for the first time. It’s true, and beside that it has the added benefit of not having to look at Robb while he – Theon shifts, trying to rein in his nerves. He can do this. _He can do this!_

Robb looks deep in thought, but then he reaches out, letting his hand glide up Theon’s chest and to his shoulder, wrapping it around his neck. His fingers tangle in the hair at Theon’s nape, his familiar smile is warm and encouraging, and a tiny bit of dread dissolves from Theon’s gut. Robb is his friend. He wouldn’t hurt him, not deliberately. Robb slowly nods, jerking his head at the bed, and Theon exhales a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He takes a step back, kneeling on the bed where he turns to Snow. 

“Don’t mock me if I – should it–” 

Snow doesn’t answer, he simply pulls Theon down and against his mouth. Theon comes willingly, laying down and letting Snow kiss him thoroughly. This is good, this is familiar. This is his love, and while Theon wouldn’t ever say it out loud, Snow’s presence is somewhat comforting. With him there… nothing can go wrong. Sounds from the side indicate that Robb is undressing but Theon doesn’t pay attention, concentrating on the taste of Snow’s mouth, the warmth of his body. 

“Get on your hands and knees,” Snow mutters against Theon’s lips. “I’ll get you ready for him.” 

Theon does as he’s told. This, too, is familiar, Snow’s glorious mouth on him, his skilled lips and tongue, and before long Theon is moaning under those ministrations, relaxed and rock hard. He already feels open and prepared, and when Snow slowly dips a finger inside it doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t do anything much actually, and Theon just wants to say so when Snow adds a second finger. Everything is slick and smooth, but it still does feel slightly uncomfortable. Nothing unbearable though, so Theon grits his teeth through the whole thing, as Snow fucks into him, twisting and spreading his fingers until Theon’s insides burn. 

It’s not a bad feeling, even starts to feel nice, the fingers drilling into him, opening him up. But still, somehow Theon finds he’s expected… more? That can’t be it, what makes Snow so eager to be fucked. Maybe something’s wrong with him, Theon muses, maybe he’s not made to be fu– 

_Drowned FUCKING God!!!_

It comes out of nowhere. Snow hits the right spot and Theon’s head snaps back; his spine arches, a guttural cry ripping from his throat as his whole body catches fire. And it doesn’t end, wave after wave running through him until he thinks he’ll drown in this. The feeling keeps building, almost unbearable, and yet Theon doesn’t stop Snow, unable to form coherent words even in his own head. More, he wants more. But just then it suddenly stops, Snow’s fingers are gone. It’s a peculiar feeling, strangely hot and in need of _something…_

“He’s ready,” Snow says somewhere, and then the bed dips and unfamiliar hands grab Theon’s hips, pulling him back. Something hard and huge is pressing against him, and suddenly the fear is back. This can’t work, not like that, it’s impossible – Theon keeps his mouth shut. He can’t back out now, they’d let him hear it forever, call him coward–

“I’m not getting any younger, Stark,” Theon grits through his teeth, bracing himself for the onslaught.

Nothing happens, and Theon just wants to say something not very flattering about Robb’s virility when the hands on his hips start to move, roaming up his sides and around to his chest, stroking, exploring. Robb bends forward, nosing at Theon’s neck before he starts placing dozens of tiny kisses down the length of Theon’s spine, each of them making Theon shiver. 

“I wanted to do this since I saw you watching me and Jon at the pools,” Robb says softly. “Are you sure–”

“Aye,” Theon interrupts him, swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat. “Go on, Robb. I’ll be fine.”

Robb returns his hands to Theon’s hips, and then the hardness is back at his entrance, and this time he isn’t that nervous. Snow has slicked Theon thoroughly, he’s dripping with oil, but it still isn’t enough it seems. The pressure increases, Robb’s hands stroking him consolingly, and Theon screws his eyes shut, a searing pain as he’s invaded, taking his breath away. Theon can’t bite back the clipped, laboured noises coming from his mouth, his head hanging low, his body quivering and tears pricking at his eyes. Drowned fucking God, it really hurts. If that’s how it’d been for Snow when Theon had first – a gentle hand drives through his hair, his favourite voice in the world is murmuring soothingly. 

“Breathe, Theon. Just breathe.” 

Snow comes to settle on the bed at Theon’s head, taking his face in both hands. His thumbs are stroking away tears, his body radiating warmth, and slowly the sting subsides, the pain receding. 

“Are you alright?” Robb anxiously asks from behind. “I can stop, Theon, if it’s too much.”

He’s not moving further, stays where he is with just the tip of his huge, fat cock lodged in Theon’s arse. It already feels _very_ much, and Theon can’t comprehend how there should be more to come – but Snow is there, Snow with his warm eyes and his sweet little smile.

“Go on,” Theon says hoarsely, gaze locked on Snow’s, and then Snow’s lips are on his, kissing him hard as Robb presses on. 

It’s too much, too big, too deep, but Theon doesn’t flinch back, tries to force his body to relax as his cries and gasps are swallowed by Snow’s mouth. It seems to take an eternity, but finally Robb comes to a halt, coarse hair touching Theon’s skin. 

“Gods,” Robb whispers, “you feel amazing, Theon… Are you – are you alright? Can I–” 

“Wait, love,” Snow says. “Give him a moment.”

Theon is glad he doesn’t have to answer, afraid his voice might break if he opens his mouth. His head is resting on Snow’s thigh, with Snow’s hand in his hair, soothing and gentle. Theon tries to breath through his nose, in and out, and slowly he can feel his body adjusting to the thick length inside him. It’s not pain anymore that he feels, only pressure, a peculiar sensation. Robb behind him is trembling, breathing heavily, he moves just a fraction and suddenly heat shoots through Theon; he gasps, his hand gripping onto Snow. 

“Fuck him, Robb,” Snow whispers above Theon, and with a groan Robb pulls back, almost all the way out and then back in in one long, slick push that makes sparks start to gather under Theon’s skin, a tugging in his stomach, deep within, and when he opens his mouth he moans out loud. It feels _good_ all of a sudden, the way he’s filled every time Robb pushes into him. 

“Gods, look at you,” Snow murmurs lowly, “you’re doing so well…”

The words send another wave of heat down Theon’s spine, his own moans blending with Robb’s as he picks up speed, slamming into Theon faster, and now he welcomes it, the stretch when he’s invaded, the moment when he’s almost empty before Robb thrusts back inside – he’s hard again, his cock rubbing against the furs in a maddening rhythm–

“I want to see you,” Robb pants, stopping his thrusts, one hand moving up Theon’s sweat-slicked back, tangling in his hair. “Gods be good I want to see your face when I spill in you.” 

_Aye_ , Theon thinks hazily, _I want to see you too_. Coaxed by Snow’s hands Theon shakily turns to lie on his back, his head in Snow’s lap. Robb kneels above him, his blue eyes darker than Theon has ever seen them. The look in them makes him shiver. 

“You’re beautiful, Theon,” Robb says, moving one hand to Theon’s face, stroking a damp strand of hair behind his ear. His face is anxious, cheeks burning, and something loosens in Theon’s chest at the sight. 

“Stop sweet-talking me, Stark,” he says with a smirk. “That’s not what I’m here for.” 

Robb’s answering smile is brilliant, and before Theon can protest Robb has bent down, and Theon loses himself in his kiss. _Snow is going to strangle me,_ he thinks as he wraps his arms around Robb’s broad shoulders, one leg around his waist, and pulls him close. The position is different, and at first it’s uncomfortable again but that soon changes when Robb’s hips move in a smooth rhythm, every thrust hitting that spot that makes heat curl in Theon’s belly, rising and ebbing and rising again until everything is hazy pleasure and unbearable want. 

And then, to Theon’s surprise, Snow’s hands are there, but not to strangle him. They glide down his chest, stroking, palming at his nipples. Theon moans, arching his back so his cock rubs against Robb’s belly, Robb fucks into him once more, stiffens, his cock pulsing in Theon and he cries out, his whole body spasming as sparks explode before his eyes and the world comes to a halt. 

Soft lips on his bring Theon back to reality, to a slick, peculiar feeling in his arse – and to Robb, moving back and giving him an insecure smile. 

“So… was it very terrible?” 

“Aye, very,” Theon drawls, stretching lazily. There’s a lovely laziness spreading in him, his limbs feel heavy and he doesn’t want to move ever again. “Shut up, Stark, you’d know if I didn’t enjoy myself.” 

“It was amazing. You are. Think we could do it again sometime?” Robb asks as he sits up, rubbing his neck and grinning hopefully. 

“Sure,” Theon shrugs. “With you on your back the next time, I’m game.” He turns onto his side, lifting his head off of Snow’s lap and peering up into his stony face. Uh-oh. “Can I sleep here tonight?” Theon asks with what he hopes is an appealing smile. “I don’t think I can walk.” 

“Well. Alright.” Robb clears his throat, bending down to kiss Snow’s tightly pursed lips. Snow’s features soften, just for a moment as he returns the kiss and shoves Robb away. “I love you, Jon,” Robb whispers. “Nothing can ever change that. You’re my love. But Theon is my best friend, and I love him too.” 

With that he leaves them alone, and while Theon is still trying to stop being flustered about Robb’s words, Snow slips off the bed. He walks over to the table where he drinks a sip of water, his back to Theon. 

“Snow,” Theon starts, “you did see that I didn’t start it, aye? It was Robb’s fault, he kissed _me_ and to be honest I did feel a little vulnerable and in need of some comfort there, what with his huge cock and all, and did I already mention it wasn’t my fault? Not that I didn’t like it, I did, all of it after the first few moments, so you win, alright? Snow?” 

The last word comes out pleadingly, and suddenly Snow turns around with a jolt. His cheeks are red, his brows pulled into an impressive frown – Theon’s eyes are drawn south, down to where Snow’s prick is jutting out from his body, rock hard and glistening at the tip. Oh? Theon looks back into Snow’s face, feeling a little confused. 

“Snow, are you–” 

“That,” Snow huffs angrily, “was the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“I’m – sorry?” 

Theon raises his eyebrows, Snow takes a step and then he’s there, flinging himself on top of Theon with his whole weight, pinning him to the bed. 

“The prick I love being fucked by the man I love,” Snow mutters before he claims Theon’s mouth, making him shudder with the things his tongue is doing, or maybe with the thing he said. “Guess I’ll have to share when I want to see it again,” Snow pants when he breaks away, shifting until he’s between Theon’s legs. “You don’t think I could – seeing as you’re already open and all…?”

“Eh, do your thing,” Theon says with a little shrug. “‘s not as if your little bastard prick would – oh – _oh_ – alright, alright, I take it back,” he groans when Snow slides into him. “Drowned fuck – I really – aaah – like this more than I – _yesss_ …” 

“Who’d have thought,” Snow yawns later, stretched out beside Theon with one arm possessively around his waist. “Theon nothing-goes-in-there Greyjoy, taking cock like he’s getting coin for it.” 

“Shut up, Snow,” Theon says, tilting his head to plant a little kiss on the tip of Snow’s nose. “Better see that you get a good night’s sleep. You’ll need your strength when I take vicious revenge on the morrow.” Another kiss, this time to Snow’s mouth. “I loved it,” Theon whispers. “And, you know. You, too.”

Snow smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope some of you liked this! I'd love to hear your thoughts etc. in the comments (yes I am a comment whore what can I say) 
> 
> Hope you're all doing good!


End file.
